


With Loss of Eden

by claryherondale



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments (Movies), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Femslash, Fluff and Smut, One Shot, Parabatai
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-08-31 20:52:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8593291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/claryherondale/pseuds/claryherondale
Summary: Before they turned eighteen, Clary Fray and Isabelle Lightwood decided to bind their friendship in front of the Clave, making them parabatai. Now that it has been a year since they turned legal, both of them are happily in relationships. But when they go to Idris without their boyfriends and stay the night in the recently rebuilt Fairchild manor, they're intoxicated by the beauty of the Shadowhunter country, as well as one another.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from the poem which The Mortal Instruments is (loosely) based off of, "Paradise Lost" by John Milton.
> 
> *MAJOR SPOILERS FOR ALL OF THE MORTAL INSTRUMENTS BOOKS*

Clary Fray's bright red hair flew around her, blurring the cold sunlight before her eyes. She walked side by side with her parabatai, Isabelle Lightwood, as they walked farther and farther away from the Glass City, Alicante. They were going out into the countryside of Idris, with beautiful, sloping hills covered in grass. Upon glancing over at Izzy, Clary felt an echo of the burn across her pale skin that had occurred when Isabelle drew the rune right below her sharp collarbone. It was directly parallel from where Jace Herondale would someday trace a rune that would mark them as husband and wife.

It had been almost two years since Clary and Isabelle's parabatai ceremony, but Clary still sometimes felt an ache in her that she couldn't quite place, a soreness in the pit of her stomach that had glanced across her the moment Izzy asked her to become her parabatai. Why would the question bring her any sort of pain? Isabelle had proven herself to be an excellent parabatai, and they moved in sync even when they weren't in the middle of a fight. Their bodies and blood moved fluidly with one another, the same way Jace and Alec's did. They were suited to each other, and where Isabelle was once so independent and self-reliant, she had begun to allow Clary to take some of the weight off of her heavy shoulders. She knew that, in part, was because of Izzy's relationship with Simon and his insistence that she didn't have to endure everything alone. But it was also due to her and Clary's bond. It wasn't just a feeling; it was a connection that was irreplaceable, something unique to Shadowhunters.

If either Clary or Isabelle were to die, it would absolutely destroy the other. Alec talked sometimes, although very rarely, about how it felt when Jace died momentarily during the Mortal War. He said it was like something snapped inside of him, like some vital part of him had been obliterated irreparably. Clary and Izzy never really talked about the possibility. Most parabatai didn't. It was a thought too horrible to discuss, especially with how many times they had faced certain death, far more than the average Shadowhunter, which was saying something.

Isabelle's dark eyes met Clary's light ones, night and day trailing beside each other on a slope under the sun, two girls both as close as intertwined fingers and yet as far apart as distant planets. Clary could just see the curling black lines of the parabatai rune peeking out from under the strap on her left shoulder. When they had asked Jace and Alec how they had chosen the placement of their runes, they both shared a glance, laughed, and said, "Put it wherever you feel comfortable with it. Just make sure you don't want it anywhere too naughty, because the other person has to draw it on you." At which, Clary blushed more than she cared to admit.

"What do you think the boys are up to?" Izzy asked, looking back in front of them.

They were beginning to pass by some of the family manors closer to the outskirts of Alicante.

Clary rolled her green eyes. "They don't have any missions to go on, so probably just hanging out at Simon's and playing video games."

"Part of me wishes that Simon was here, but I also kind of like that it's just the two of us," murmured Isabelle, her dark red lips curving up at the edges slightly.

Clary's breath caught in her throat for a moment. While trying to decipher the small bit of dread in her at the thought of being Isabelle's parabatai, she considered that maybe she had feelings for the beautiful, dark-haired girl. But Clary knew that she loved Jace more than she could ever love anyone. Her body and mind were made for his; every cell in her held love for him. That didn't, however, mean that, somewhere deep within her, she harbored not-quite-innocent thoughts about Isabelle. Clary just didn't know the extent to which this desire was prevalent, nor did she know what to do with it. So she did nothing.

"Yeah, me too. Thank you for coming with me," Clary said. "You didn't have to. I could have come alone."

"You know I wouldn't have let you do that, Clary. Just because you can make portals by yourself doesn't mean that you don't need a travel companion. Besides, watching Consul Penhallow gift you with your family ring was kind of fun. There's not really a precedent for things like that, considering most Shadowhunter families pass their rings down from generation to generation. But your mom's was lost in the fire Valentine set to the Fairchild manor, and considering what you've done for not just the Shadow World but all of humanity, I think it would have been quite ridiculous for them to not gift you with a new one." Isabelle grabbed Clary's frail hand for a moment, again examining the ring. Little wings adorned the sides of the silver metal band. "The Iron Sisters did a good job with this one. Not that they don't always. Now you can exchange rings with Jace."

Clary smiled a little at the thought of wearing the Herondale ring on her finger. She remembered the first time she had seen a couple who had exchanged family rings; it was like a Shadowhunter version of a promise ring, considering there were no actual rings that were exchanged during a Shadowhunter wedding ceremony. Clary had first seen it happen between Aline Penhallow and Helen Blackthorn. Distantly, she wondered how they were doing, exiled on Wrangle Island. It made her mind graze over thoughts of Emma Carstairs and Julian Blackthorn. She hoped they were well.

"Speaking of the Iron Sisters, did I ever tell you about that time I went with your mom to the Adamant Citadel and one of them told me I'd make a good Iron Sister?" Isabelle wondered.

Clary looked at the other girl with wary eyes. "You better not be telling me that you're going to break our parabatai bond by joining the Iron Sisters. Don't you remember what Zachariah told us about him becoming a Silent Brother? It destroyed his parabatai—oh, what was his name? Something Herondale? Tessa Gray's husband?"

"Will Herondale," Isabelle reminded Clary. "And no, of course not. I just thought it was interesting. I considered it, briefly, after Magnus's father took Simon's memories and I felt like there was nothing really left for me. But now, I'm glad that I didn't."

They rarely talked about Simon losing his memories of them and the Shadow World, because that particular part of their past hurt too much. They had moved on since then though, and they didn't have to move on without Simon.

"Well, I'm glad you didn't as well."

They were enclosing upon their destination. Clary could see it in the distance. The Fairchild manor had been rebuilt since the end of the Dark War, as it was no longer a mark of the Circle and their betrayal, but of Clary and the sacrifices she made for their world. The Lightwood manor had been rebuilt too, but Clary had an attachment to the Fairchild manor that she had explained to no one but Jace. When they had gone to Edom and were faced with the dream demon, Clary had envisioned her life there, as it would have been without Valentine in the picture. She had seen herself with her brother Jonathan, not corrupted by demon blood, and the younger sister they could have had. Clary had dreamed, under the influence of the demon, of marrying Jace there. She figured she someday would, after expressing what she saw to Jace. He didn't like to think about his own vision that the dream demon had forced upon him, but he seemed to like Clary's in a sort of bittersweet way. It gave Clary nostalgia for a life she had never lived. But it wasn't something that she minded. Although she would never fully be able to heal from what had happened, Clary had come to a sort of peace with it. She could think about it without her heart breaking. After all, she had gotten so many good things out of her abrupt and blunt immersion into the Shadow World when she was almost sixteen. Like Jace. And Isabelle.

It felt right to be here with her parabatai now. Clary's mother, Jocelyn, hadn't been back here since the Dark War, except for things like Clary and Isabelle's parabatai ceremony. She hadn't seen the rebuilt manor. Clary figured that Jocelyn didn't want to. It held too many dark memories for her, and she was happy in her life now, wedded to Luke Garroway. Jocelyn had told Clary that the manor was all hers, considering there were no other living Fairchilds. And since Clary would become a Herondale, there never would be again. At least not until they were dead and the surname had been retired for a long enough time that the Clave would allow it to be used for an ascending Shadowhunter. 

Isabelle's snaking electrum whip sparkled on her wrist in the low sunlight as she and Clary walked up the stone walkway that led to the Fairchild manor. It was on a large lawn beside a grassy, inclining hill, relatively recluse, as most manors outside of Alicante were. At Clary's request, it had been built so it matched her vision from the dream demon. The front doors were large and rounded, misleadingly bronze-colored, though they were made from wood. They were emblazoned with the Fairchild symbol: the same design of delicate wings that were engraved into Clary's family ring. The rest of the manor was built with stones, which were painted a calm gold. The walls were covered with trellises that had roses crawling up them: red, orange, and gold. If the three colors of them were mixed together, they would result in the pigment of Clary's hair. Iron balconies were elegantly crafted farther up, in front of three sets of double door. They led out from three bedrooms on the second floor. 

Clary pulled her stele out of one of her boots—boots that Isabelle didn't quite approve of, considering the heels were much shorter than seven inches. Clary began drawing out the unlocking rune that was specific to her manor. When she completed it with a flick of her wrist, it glowed slightly and then granted them entrance. Clary put her stele back in her shoe and opened the doors with necessary grandeur, considering how heavy they were. She stood to the side and smiled at the other girl. Isabelle was backed by the sun, which was beginning to dip below the horizon, and the outline of her body was angelic with the touch of the light. She always wore beautiful dresses or skin-tight pants, tasteful crop-tops or long-sleeved shirts with dangerously low necklines. Clary generally felt pretty plain next to her parabatai. Isabelle fit the role of a Shadowhunter seamlessly, and the golden ichor in her veins was prevalent just from her appearance. Clary had proven herself a capable Shadowhunter, and in fact, she had more angelic blood in her veins than any Nephilim—other than Jace, that was. But people wouldn't know that about her unless they either saw the black ink scrawled across her skin or watched her engage in battle. Not that feeling invisible was something she really had to deal with in the Shadow World any longer. Pretty much everyone knew all of their names.

Clary had long since gotten over her jealousy of Izzy, but looking at her now, she felt something else. Something that she normally only felt with Jace. Clary averted her eyes as Isabelle stepped over the threshold and into the manor.

Clary and Isabelle's night was quiet and peaceful. As it became dark, the cold grew remarkably, so they started a fire in the fireplace and let it burn as they curled up with blankets and cups of tea. Isabelle sat watching the flames dance and cast shadows across the walls, her hands clasped around her mug and her face cleared of makeup. Izzy liked to wear makeup most of the time, which was never a bad thing, but more recently, she had become increasingly comfortable going barefaced with her family—which now also consisted of Clary and Simon.

Clary sat with her sketchbook in her lap, on the couch across from Izzy, drawing her parabatai silently. As she traced the visible parts of the rune that bound them together, she got the sense that Isabelle knew exactly what she was doing. It wasn't the first time. Isabelle's walls back in her room at the New York Institute were cluttered with sketches that Clary had drawn of and for her. That was how Clary showed her affection. Izzy, on the other hand, consistently gifted her with weaponry, which is how she conveyed her love. Isabelle had been insistent that her parabatai have something made from the electrum that was practically her trademark, so after their ceremony, she had given Clary a replica of her whip that she had specifically made for her. Isabelle had given Clary lessons in using it, and Clary had gotten pretty good with it, although she was still nowhere near as good as Isabelle was—who could be? It stayed hung up on the wall in Clary's room in the institute most of the time, and it had since Clary had moved in there from Jocelyn and Luke's house. She had moved in almost as soon as she turned eighteen and her mother would allow her to take residence in the same place as her boyfriend and parabatai. Although Alec had left to live with Magnus and Robert and Maryse were separated, meaning that Robert never really strayed from Idris—unless to deal with matters that involved his Inquisitor status—the institute was generally fuller than it had been when Clary first stayed there when her mother had been taken by Valentine. The Shadowhunter populous was increasing steadily, their ranks expanding after so many fatalities during the Mortal War and the Dark War, since the reopening of the Shadowhunter Academy. 

Isabelle was watching Clary now with her dark eyes, shielded by long, thick eyelashes. Clary looked up and met her gaze, smiling sheepishly. Izzy appeared much younger than she normally did when she wasn't wearing makeup; Clary could imagine the fear in her eyes when Sebastian had knocked her out in the Penhallow's kitchen, the impenetrable grief that still sometimes lingered when Isabelle was reminded of the little brother that had been a tragic casualty of the terror that followed.

But then, Clary could also imagine in those clear eyes the happiness when Simon had survived his ascension, the joy she got when she was surrounded by her living brothers, and the brightness that lightened everything about her when she saw her nephews. 

And that energetic contentment was there when Isabelle said, "Let me see what you have so far."

Clary looked down at her work critically. She had finished most of Izzy's face and was just starting on the shading of her long hair. Clary bit her lip for a moment, but ultimately resulted in giving up. She held the drawing up so Isabelle could see it.

"Wow," Izzy breathed. "Clary, your talent never ceases to amaze me. Not when you draw a blade of grass that, for some reason that I can't comprehend, catches your eye. Not when you etch out a rune that no Shadowhunter has ever seen before. Never."

"Thank you, Iz," Clary said.

Being parabatai with Isabelle had helped her self-confidence tremendously. Isabelle was always there to reassure Clary, and every time Clary refused a compliment, Izzy would make it a point to continue to shower her with the same admiration constantly until Clary would finally believe it. She didn't pressure Clary into pretending that she felt a certain way or make her feel bad about where she thought she might have shortcomings. Jace had picked up the same habit since Isabelle had started doing it, and although Clary thought it was unnecessary, she appreciated it greatly.

Isabelle leaned forward, set her cup down, and smiled sleepily at Clary.

"I'm going to go to bed, alright? Tomorrow, we can get up whenever and then go see my dad. We can portal home after that, unless you want to do some shopping in Alicante," said Izzy.

Clary loved the Shadowhunter country with an unmatched tenderness, although she had never really thought it to exactly be home to her, the way other Nephilim did. When Shadowhunters weren't raised as mundanes, the way Clary was, this was somewhat like their safe haven. Especially Alicante, with the demon wards. It was a place where they could be themselves, where they never had to glamour anything and buying seraph blades in a shop on the corner of the cobblestone street was a commonality. 

Clary had mixed memories here, more than she could count. So did everyone else, though. Especially after the Mortal War, and absolutely after the Dark War, considering that was fought within the confines of Alicante, when Sebastian had figured out a way to surpass the wards. But Clary figured now, she could separate the bad emotions that were tied to the Shadowhunter country from the reasons she loved it so much. It seemed like Isabelle could as well, that they all could. 

"Whatever you'd like," Clary told her.

Izzy smiled. "We'll see how we feel after visiting my dad."

"Are you going to be alright doing that? I know it's been hard for you," Clary ventured carefully.

Isabelle hesitated. She didn't like sharing her emotions. But she had become more open the last couple of years, especially with Simon and Clary.

So, although slightly unwillingly, she confessed, "I don't know. It's been better since he explained the reasoning behind his homophobia to Alec, but that doesn't change that he cheated on my mom. It also doesn't change that he was hurting Alec all of those years, even before he came out. I'm moving past it, though. Because I love him. I hardly get to see him now that he's not living in the institute with us, and separation always sucks for the children involved, but they both seem happier apart."

"I think they are," Clary said quietly.

"And it's not like they destroyed my concept of love or anything. I mean, they made it difficult for awhile. I couldn't stand the idea of giving my heart to someone." Isabelle's eyes flicked down momentarily. "Simon cheating on me with Maia didn't help that. But I see Alec and Magnus, and I see you and Jace, and I know how I feel about Simon and how he feels about me. Love exists and is well. I first learned that from you."

"From me?" echoed Clary in disbelief.

"Yes, silly. The way you loved your mother enough to risk everything for her. The way you loved Simon like he was an extension of yourself. The way you loved Jace, despite everything. The way he loved you, the way he never stopped. I know it destroyed both of you when Valentine told you that awful lie, but it broke my heart, too. And not just from watching you and my brother suffering. When Jace met you, he came alive. I've told you that. The idea that something that made him a better person—a happier person—could be thrown back in his face . . . it made me lose faith for awhile. But then, you guys made it through. You came out the other side, both alive and well. You were able to repair one another. And then . . . the way you love me. That, I think, has given me the most hope in love."

Clary smiled at her parabatai warmly. "I will always love you, Isabelle."

"I know you will," Isabelle said smugly. "We took an oath, remember?"

Clary rolled her eyes. "Go to bed already."

"Alright, alright."

Isabelle got up, discarding her blanket, and ascended the stairs. Her soft footsteps were quickly lost as she walked down the hallway on the second floor. Clary could hear the muffled sound of Izzy opening and shutting one of the bedroom doors.

Clary flipped her sketchbook closed and emptied both of their mugs out in the sink, then scrubbed them clean and set them aside to dry. She curled up onto the couch next to the fire, pulling her blanket up to her freckled chin. Without even thinking about it, she fell asleep in the warmth of a Fairchild manor that Valentine had never been in, on the same grounds where they had once found the burned remains of the Shadowhunters they thought were Valentine and Sebastian. 

It was a bittersweet place to be.

 

A couple of hours later, Clary jolted out of a nightmare uneasily. As soon as she sat up, she couldn't exactly remember what had happened in it, but she had a dark inkling that it had to do with the hallucinations she once had after consuming water from Lake Lyn. The most prominent thing that she saw that day was her name on a gravestone. Clary ran a shaky hand over her face, but she couldn't get rid of the lingering feeling of dread. She took a deep, unsettled breath and forced herself to get up and walk up the stairs.

She knew which room Isabelle stayed in when they came here: it was the one on the far side of hallway. Clary just wanted the comfort of her parabatai. She went and knocked on the door softly. There was no response, so Clary opened it quietly. Her eyes searched the bed for Isabelle's sleeping form, but they came up empty. The balcony doors, however, were wide open, letting in the bitter night air.

Clary walked across the room and saw Isabelle standing there in the silver moonlight that blanketed the land, untouched by light pollution. Izzy's dark hair fell like a black waterfall across her back, untangled and smooth. She wore a sheer nightgown that just barely scraped the floor, making her look as elegant and regal as ever. Clary momentarily thought back to when Sebastian had named her the queen of hell. Despite the circumstances, Clary had always thought that Isabelle would be crowned a queen long before she would.

But Izzy was already a queen. She was the queen of herself.

"Come join me, Clary," Isabelle said calmly, resting her hands against the iron railing.

She must have had a rune that made her hearing more sensitive carved somewhere on her body. 

"I'm sorry, Izzy," Clary said, slightly sheepishly. "I can leave if you want."

"Don't be silly. Did you have a nightmare?"

Isabelle knew her like the back of her hand. But that's how parabatai were supposed to be. Clary walked up beside Isabelle and looked at the billions of stars sprinkled across the night sky. She could clearly see the Milky Way, and shooting stars brushed across the horizon more frequently than Clary would have thought they would. She momentarily contemplated about wishing on one of them. It was such a mundane tradition. She decided against it quickly, pressing her lips into a firm line. 

"Yes," whispered Clary finally.

"Come here," Isabelle said, her voice soft and velvety.

Clary got closer to her parabatai and leaned her head against the other girl's shoulder, while Isabelle wrapped an arm around her frail shoulders. After a quiet moment of two hearts beating rhythmically, Isabelle gently rested two fingers under her parabatai's chin and lifted Clary's lips to meet her own. Clary straightened out and leaned into the kiss, both of them just breathing each other in like fresh air for a few moments. And then Clary took a forceful step back, reaching out and grasping the railing to balance herself. The cold metal biting into the skin of her fingers and palms was helpful in grounding her. Finally, she looked at Isabelle. Izzy was watching her with wide eyes that Clary couldn't quite decipher.

When Clary seemed unable to find words, Isabelle asked, "Did you not like that?"

"Iz, we're parabatai," Clary stated.

"So? None of us even know why they have that stupid law anyway. And it's not like I'm asking you to marry me or anything. You and I—we're not in love. Unless, do you love me romantically?"

"No," Clary admitted.

"And I'm not in love with you, either. But I love you dearly. With all of my heart. I asked you to be my parabatai. I never thought I would feel close enough to someone to ask that. It was a way bigger deal for me than a proposal and a marriage ever would be. If we're not in love, it's not against the law. It's just . . . not recommended."

At that, Clary laughed a little. "We've never really followed what the Clave recommends anyway, have we? But what about Jace and Simon?"

"This will be our secret. We'll tell them one day, and they'll forgive us because they love us. Simon cheated on me with Maia, and Jace has nearly killed you on multiple occasions. I think this is either an equal or softer offense than that."

"That doesn't justify it," Clary protested.

"Clary, you are so stubborn." But Isabelle said it more lovingly than anything else. "You're right. It doesn't. But can you really go the rest of your life by my side, not knowing what it's like?"

Clary swallowed hard and, after a moment of silent consideration, gave in and told her the truth. "No, I can't."

Made content by her answer, Izzy smiled and said, "Well, okay then."

Clary couldn't resist any longer. She closed the gap between them and kissed Isabelle again. Izzy's soft lips parted against hers, and just like when they fought, they moved together in synchronicity. They fit together perfectly. Isabelle's hands knotted in Clary's hair, pulling her closer. Clary wove her fingers into Isabelle's dark locks as well, running her fingers in little circles around the nape of her parabatai's neck.

After a moment of them standing there under the moonlight, exploring each other's lips and mouths, Isabelle broke away from their kiss. She gently pushed Clary's red hair over her shoulder and then buried her face in the other girl's neck. She sucked at the skin their harshly, grazing it with her teeth.

"Iz, that's going to leave a mark," Clary said breathlessly, although she made no move to stop her parabatai.

Isabelle smiled against Clary's sensitive skin and then moved away, meeting her eyes with a sparkling gaze. "That's what an iratze is for."

Izzy went back to Clary's lips, this time more harshly and urgently. Clary allowed Isabelle to take dominance over her, beginning to push her back into the bedroom. They collapsed together on the soft mattress, surrounded by pillows and blankets. Isabelle was on top of Clary, every point of their bodies making contact through the clothes that they wore, and they were gasping into each other's mouths. Izzy sat up after a moment and pulled her sheer nightgown off over her head. Clary just stared at her parabatai in awe. She was so beautiful. With a body like that, what would she even think of Clary, once she was unclothed and exposed? Certainly, Isabelle had seen her in her underwear before, but not in these circumstances and never completely naked. The only person who she had shared herself with like this before was Jace. Clary knew that Isabelle had done this with people other than Simon.

A budding question flowered in Clary's mind, and she trusted Izzy enough to voice it: "Have you done this with any other girls?"

Isabelle was quiet for a moment, their heavy breathing filling the silence between them.

"One," she finally admitted. "Remember the faerie girl that Jace had a thing with around the time we met you?"

"Kaelie?"

"Yes, her. We slept together once and that was it. She was more interested in Jace than me, and I didn't have any romantic feelings for her. I just wanted to know what the experience was like. I was only fifteen or sixteen, and I didn't know whether or not I actually liked girls."

"And do you?"

Isabelle laughed, a soft sound in her mouth, and sort of gestured about them to answer. "Obviously, I'm attracted to females. But only very rarely. And since Kaelie, I haven't acted upon it. Until now."

They went back to kissing, and Clary started running her hands along Isabelle's velvety spine, the little bones raised there. When she reached the clasp of her parabatai's bra, she didn't fumble too much with the black material. Not like she was sure Simon did, even now. Isabelle allowed this, but then sat up before either of them could completely remove her bra.

"What?" asked Clary.

"It's your turn to remove some clothing."

Clary's heart started beating harder, but she managed to steadily, and with a gleam of mock innocence in her eyes, say, "Help me?"

Izzy happily complied. She started by easing Clary to sit up and then pulling her shirt off over her head. And then they shimmied her out of her jeans, leaving her legs bare, the lack of pigment picking up the silver sheen of the moonlight. Clary silently cursed herself for not wearing skimpier undergarments. In fact, she would have settled for a matching pair. But Isabelle didn't seem to care, despite her impeccably clad body, a lacy set of bra and underwear, which revealed a lot more than functioning undergarments would. 

Isabelle smiled at Clary as she slid her unhooked bra off over her shoulders, revealing intimate skin. Clary's breath caught in her throat. The Angel had sculpted her perfectly; she was everything a Shadowhunter should be—strong, graceful, and irresistible. Definitely irresistible. Clary eagerly reached up for Izzy, to drag the other girl back on top of her, but Isabelle wouldn't let her quite yet. She reached out and ran her silky fingertips over Clary's bra strap.

"Off," Izzy commanded.

Clary looked away from Isabelle's eyes as she removed the article of clothing, tossing it aside. She was incredibly self-conscious. Isabelle was quiet for so long that Clary couldn't help but look up, and when she did, she saw Izzy's dark eyes, which were dilated with lust. No one had ever looked at her like that before, aside from Jace. Clary knew that Isabelle was no longer in control. Neither of them were. Isabelle practically attacked Clary, forcing her back against the pillows as she slipped her fingers into the waistband of Clary's underwear and all but ripped them off. Clary helped Isabelle take hers off as well, and they were both lying there, exposed to one another, their angel and human blood alike on fire within them.

Izzy placed her body lithely across Clary's slight, birdlike frame. Izzy was willowy and graceful, gently parting Clary's legs so she could fit herself comfortably on top of her. She cupped Clary's face with one soft hand, looking at her adoringly.

"Clary," she whispered, her voice smooth and clear, "I know you've never done this before, so I'm going to guide you through it, okay? If you get uncomfortable at all, I want you to tell me and we can stop."

All Clary could manage to do was nod, and Isabelle knew her parabatai well enough to understand that this was solid consent. But she also knew to go slowly. Clary had been so innocent when they had first met her, in terms of the Shadow World as well as sex. Jace had changed both of those things, but there was still that lingering purity about her. Clary knew that Isabelle didn't mind it, especially when everyone in her life had been so corrupt for so long.

Isabelle started kissing Clary again, and as their passion grew, she carefully began moving herself against Clary. Clary was sure that Isabelle didn't know everything about relations with other females, but they both understood each other's bodies so well that it was almost impossible to go wrong. Especially considering Izzy was an expert in just about everything she did. Sturdily, as she touched her parabatai's skin, Clary's confidence grew. She knew just about every inch of her Shadowhunting partner, and the parts of her that she didn't know, Clary quickly acquainted herself with. 

Clary ran her tongue along the curling black marks on Isabelle's skin, and Izzy shuddered with pleasure, then dipped her head to do the same. She felt Isabelle's lips just below her right collarbone, tracing the parabatai rune that she had drawn there almost two years ago. As Clary's kiss finally found the angelic strength rune on Izzy's chest, the other girl froze and let Clary explore her tender skin. Bumps rose on Isabelle's arms, chest, stomach, and legs with the pleasure of sensation. Clary began moving her hips in a circular motion against the other girl, her legs clasped around Izzy's back. Isabelle gasped at the sensation and went back to kissing Clary's lips. She seemed surprised that Clary had taken initiative, but Isabelle didn't let Clary keep the upper hand for long.

Isabelle gently unlocked Clary's legs, spreading them farther apart as she crawled down her parabatai's body, leaving a fiery trail of kisses as she went. Isabelle's head dipped between Clary's thighs, her tongue working in magnificent ways. Clary gasped at the sensation, curling one set of fingers into Izzy's hair and the other into the sheets, blankets, pillows, and anything else next to her. 

"Isabelle," moaned Clary, her lips parted in ecstasy.

Clary's back arched off of the bed as Isabelle touched her magically with her lips, tongue, and fingers. At the sound of her name, Izzy looked up at her parabatai without breaking contact, and there was both smugness and desire in her eyes. Isabelle did things to her that had never been done before—while Jace was incredibly skilled at what he did, no one understood Clary's body better than Izzy did. Not only were they both girls, so they had more experience with the anatomy, but they were parabatai as well.

Clary gasped Isabelle's name again as she reached her peak, and then her body collapsed back against the bed as waves of pleasure radiated through her limbs. She was nearly trembling with the intensity of the sensations, cresting over her as she finished. Her whole body felt as though it was radiating with light. But as she opened up her eyes, she realized that it was still dark out, that the sun hadn't flared so intensely that it had blinded the world.

Isabelle crawled up Clary's body again and leaned into her, kissing her. Their lips moved languorously against each other, and as Clary came down from her high, she began nervously running her hands down her parabatai's body until she reached the sensitive place between her legs. She slowly moved her fingers, and Isabelle broke their kiss. Clary could see Isabelle's lips part breathlessly before she buried her head in the space between her parabatai's neck and shoulder. With Izzy's body languid like water, Clary was able to shift them so that she was now on top of Isabelle. 

Their gazes met for a moment, and Clary found nothing but vulnerability in Izzy's eyes.

"Iz," Clary whispered softly, like they were the two most beautiful letters her mouth had ever curved to form.

Clary pressed a gentle kiss to Isabelle's lips, and Izzy softly said, "I can guide you, okay?"

Clary nodded and tried to follow how Izzy had started, trailing her lips down through the middle of her parabatai's cleavage and across the smooth skin of her stomach. She hesitated at Isabelle's hipbones, tracing a small rune placed there with her fingertips as she looked up at Isabelle. Izzy was watching her carefully, and when their eyes made contact, Isabelle nodded encouragingly, although Clary also knew that Isabelle would let her take as much time as she needed. Clary was just afraid that she'd mess up, that it wouldn't be anywhere near as good as Izzy made it for her. But she wanted to try. 

So, with her heart beating erratically in her chest like a hummingbird caught behind her ribs, Clary moved farther down, so that her head was between Isabelle's soft, clear thighs. Izzy shifted so that her legs hung loosely over Clary's shoulders, and the gentle weight of them against her body—with so much of their skin touching—made Clary more comfortable. She began kissing Isabelle intimately, using the same movements that Izzy had against her. She used her lips, tongue, and fingers. These were all firsts for Clary, but Isabelle didn't seem to mind. She was squirming beneath Clary's touch, moaning and reaching up behind her, her body stretching lithely as her fingers curled harshly against the backboard. 

"Yes, Clary, just like that," she gasped encouragingly. She let out a breathy laugh. "Are you sure you've never done this before?"

It wasn't quite elegant or skilled, but it was beautiful and exquisite nonetheless. Two girls, as close as they could get together, with both their bond and their bodies, under the disguise of the night. Isabelle's legs trembled slightly, and she harshly grabbed a handful of Clary's hair as she finished against her parabatai's lips.

They both sat up and tried to catch their breath for a moment before Isabelle beckoned for Clary to lie down beside her. They draped the sheets and blankets over their naked bodies, their heads erasing the impression of their grasping hands on the pillows. They curled into each other's arms, holding on so tightly that Clary wasn't sure they would ever let go. So very tenderly, Isabelle ran her fingers along Clary's parabatai rune until Clary took her hand and intertwined it with her own.

"I love you, Clary," Izzy whispered against the other's girl ear.

Clary smiled slightly, her entire body filled with warmth. "I love you too, Isabelle."

They would still someday become Clarissa Herondale and Isabelle Lovelace.

But right now, here where they were bathed in moonlight, the parabatai were alone in their own world. Their raven and red hair curled and tangled together until they were indiscernible in the night, so that when they were to awake in the morning, they might not be able to tell each other apart.


End file.
